01-15-2023, 07:26 PM
TW - thoughts of abortion
She was staring out the kitchen window with a cup of tea cradled in her hands, the brew tepid by that point; she had hardly touched the crumpets she'd so lovingly prepared. Pippa was tired and worried, having not heard anything from Viktre, his partner, OR Douglas. Added to all of that, she hardly left the house anymore at all for the fact that she was starting to grow around the waist, let alone that feeling of being watched constantly for the several weeks that lead up to the moment where her forehead rested against the pane of glass.
The young socialite-turned-maid was beyond tears, feeling so much guilt for her predicament. She regretted what had happened by that point, realizing what stupidity her grief caused her to get into. The girl closed her eyes and the vapor from her sigh clouded the glass momentarily. She pulled away, setting the mostly untouched beverage on the nearby table before moving to put her uneaten crumpet next to the plate of the others, the aroma of the pastry still lingering in the air as the majority of the pile was still slightly warm and ready to grab at a moment's notice.
She thought about how she could take care of her problem. There was part of her that very much wanted to keep the child, for the child was all she had left by way of family... but there was a more desperate niggling coming in that had her thinking of other options, and it tortured her so. She felt even guiltier for the more sinister of the two thoughts of action that came to mind.
Pippa hadn't talked much to her employer since the last time she'd seen her former lover, when Viktre had tried to marry her off to his partner, which had been a low blow to her already messed up state. Honestly, she thought, she was just... tired of the hand that had been dealt and focused her attention on the things that could help her in the long run... she no longer burnt things when cooking, no longer took hours scrubbing floors because she figured out how to be more efficient without cutting corners.
She wondered what Tristan would do now that her prospects and her safety were dwindling so quickly.
And then finally, she made her way up the stairs to search him out. It was something that she needed to do. The first place she looked was his study, a room she only went in now upon invitation so she would not make the mistake of picking up dropped letters. She only tidied up the study when requested and only when he was present so that would not have been repeated, and she even left a small note with her apology and her promise not to do it again.
When she saw the good doctor stooped over what looked to be ledgers, she hardly glanced at the objects and studied him momentarily before softly knocking upon the frame of the door. "Did you need anything more from me for the next few hours, Dr. Wells? I thought, perhaps, since I've finished all of the day's cleaning, I could rest for a spell before supper needs to be cooked."
She was staring out the kitchen window with a cup of tea cradled in her hands, the brew tepid by that point; she had hardly touched the crumpets she'd so lovingly prepared. Pippa was tired and worried, having not heard anything from Viktre, his partner, OR Douglas. Added to all of that, she hardly left the house anymore at all for the fact that she was starting to grow around the waist, let alone that feeling of being watched constantly for the several weeks that lead up to the moment where her forehead rested against the pane of glass.
The young socialite-turned-maid was beyond tears, feeling so much guilt for her predicament. She regretted what had happened by that point, realizing what stupidity her grief caused her to get into. The girl closed her eyes and the vapor from her sigh clouded the glass momentarily. She pulled away, setting the mostly untouched beverage on the nearby table before moving to put her uneaten crumpet next to the plate of the others, the aroma of the pastry still lingering in the air as the majority of the pile was still slightly warm and ready to grab at a moment's notice.
She thought about how she could take care of her problem. There was part of her that very much wanted to keep the child, for the child was all she had left by way of family... but there was a more desperate niggling coming in that had her thinking of other options, and it tortured her so. She felt even guiltier for the more sinister of the two thoughts of action that came to mind.
Pippa hadn't talked much to her employer since the last time she'd seen her former lover, when Viktre had tried to marry her off to his partner, which had been a low blow to her already messed up state. Honestly, she thought, she was just... tired of the hand that had been dealt and focused her attention on the things that could help her in the long run... she no longer burnt things when cooking, no longer took hours scrubbing floors because she figured out how to be more efficient without cutting corners.
She wondered what Tristan would do now that her prospects and her safety were dwindling so quickly.
And then finally, she made her way up the stairs to search him out. It was something that she needed to do. The first place she looked was his study, a room she only went in now upon invitation so she would not make the mistake of picking up dropped letters. She only tidied up the study when requested and only when he was present so that would not have been repeated, and she even left a small note with her apology and her promise not to do it again.
When she saw the good doctor stooped over what looked to be ledgers, she hardly glanced at the objects and studied him momentarily before softly knocking upon the frame of the door. "Did you need anything more from me for the next few hours, Dr. Wells? I thought, perhaps, since I've finished all of the day's cleaning, I could rest for a spell before supper needs to be cooked."
